


Mágoa

by Sanshal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Animalistic, Bottom Dean, Cursed Sam, Curses, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fuck Or Die, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Pre-Series, Protective Dean Winchester, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Self-Sacrifice, Self-Sacrificing Dean, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 05:50:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7496304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanshal/pseuds/Sanshal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam  gets hit with a curse/spell and John takes the boys to a motel and locks them into a room together...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mágoa

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and may contain triggery elements for some. Kindly heed the Warnings mentioned above. 
> 
> That said, I believe in over-warning rather than springing something on readers that might possibly trigger them. Nevertheless, proceed with caution.  
> And even though I tagged this 'pre-series', I'm picturing Dean to be 21+ and Sam as 17+(almost 18) at the time of the events of this story.

\---

 _** Mágoa ** _ ****

****

Dean was careful to lower his passed out brother gently onto the mattress so that he did not cause his younger sibling any undue pain and only straightened as the door closed behind them.

 

“Dad?” He called, trying the door unsuccessfully.

 

“It’ll be better this way, Son.” John’s muffled voice came through the door.

 

His eyes widened and he couldn’t help but cast a worried gaze towards the bed where Sam was still lying. “Dad! You know he-” He paused, understanding sinking in and feeling goosebumps rising up his skin at the thought of just what his father expected him to do.

 

“Better you and him than him and me,” John grunted.

 

Dean winced as he heard the distinctive splash of liquor in the bottle. _Great. So Dad was already working towards the ‘forgetting this ever happened’ part of the evening._

 

He thumped his head tiredly against the door. .. Decided to try one last time, “Dad... please.”

 

“Take care of your brother, Dean.”

 

Dean closed his eyes as he felt the sting of tears. “Yes, Sir.”

 

_But who will take care of me, Daddy?_

 

The words never left his lips and he let himself have another moment to shore up his courage for what was to come.

 

Dean hated to admit it, but it took more than a few fortifying breaths for him to even find the strength to turn around and glance in the direction of his unconscious brother. And then it was as though he had never had those doubts in the first place. Sam’s face was peaceful with a tiny little furrow between his brows and those petal pink lips parted softly on each exhale ... Dean felt his heart clench for what was to come in a few hours... _No, his Dad was right. Sam would never recover if it was Dad he was forced to be intimate with. ... he could only hope that he would be enough for his beautiful baby brother._

 

He brushed his fingers through the soft hair once and set to making Sam’s rest more comfortable: removing his shoes, the coarse denim jacket and the thick jeans. Sam was still clad in a soft tee-shirt and loose boxers but he figured Sam could take care of them himself when the time came.  Cleaning the grime from his face with a moist wash-cloth, Dean tucked him under the covers before planting a quick kiss on his brother’s forehead. He would deny it till his dying breath but the thought that Sam would be losing his innocence in a few hours made his heart shatter.

 

Once Sam was settled as comfortably as he could be, Dean turned his attention to himself. A quick shower later he was ready for bed, but he hesitated as he opened the door and watched the gentle rise and fall of his brother’s chest.

 

 _Was Sammy a virgin? God, he hoped not- this was going to suck as it is without that added complication_.

 

In any case, he was not going to be the one doing any ‘taking’- he couldn’t even contemplate the thought without wanting to hurl. _Guess that meant he was going to play catcher..._

 

He wondered if Sam would be himself enough to ‘prep’ him and decided not to risk it; things would be awkward enough as it is without his brother dipping fingers into his ass. Sighing, he retreated back into the bathroom and searched around till he found a lotion.

 

The first finger was easy enough, but the sensation was totally weird. The second one hurt some, but he guessed it would be better to play safe than sorry. Even then, he called it enough at two fingers and pulled up his sweatpants. A glance at the mirror told him he was all flushed and sweaty, but he climbed under the covers next to Sam regardless.

 

He slung an arm over the narrow waist and pulled the younger boy close. He just hoped this would not break them.

 

_*_-*-_*_

Dean was woken about two hours later by Sam rubbing himself against him.

 

He peered blearily up at the roof, cursing pubescent little-brothers before he remembered what had happened and just _why_ he and Sam were in a bed together.

“Sammy?”

 

The younger boy grunted wordlessly, trying to hold Dean down as the older boy flipped on the night-lamp, its pale light casting a yellowish glow over the entire room.

 

Dean turned his head to stare at his brother, taking in the wild eyes and their vacant expression, “You okay, Sammy?”

 

Sam just grunted again and continued to grind against him.

 

Dean raised a hand to brush through the sweaty locks as he shifted slightly to face Sam better. The movement had his upper left leg slipping between Sam’s and the boy let out a happy snuffle, his hips moving with more focus now that he seemed to have figured out that the pressure on his dick felt nice.

 

Dean had expected Sam to want actual _penetrative_ sex and not a hasty grind-session through their clothes, but if this was enough to break the spell, he; for one, was _definitely_ not complaining.

 

Unfortunately, it soon became clear that it was, in fact _not enough_. Sam’s face was red from exertion but he still showed no signs of attaining his release... and by now Dean was sure his thigh was bruised enough to bear marks for a few days at least.  His arms had not fared any better, what with Sam grabbing at his biceps to get the desired leverage. _And when had his baby brother gotten so strong?_

 

With a sigh Dean decided to step in, “Sam. Sammy... let- let me help, yeah?”

 

The younger boy stilled for the fraction of a second and Dean tried to sit up.

 

Apparently, that was a mistake.

 

Sam snarled- _actually snarled_ \- at him and tried to grab at him; the frenzied grab tearing his boxers and baring him to the cool air of the room. Dean stilled instantly, eyes flying to meet Sam’s panicked-ly and noticed his brother observing the exposed skin with a tilted head. Sam reached out to touch the bared skin curiously and Dean grabbed his wrist, “ _No_.”

 

The younger sibling’s only response was to snuffle at him inquisitively.

 

Dean sighed and spread his legs slightly, half rising so that he could lower Sam’s boxers, gratified when the cursed boy allowed the action without protest. Once done, Dean couldn’t help but cast a quick glance downwards and immediately wished he hadn’t. Biting his lip he lay back down again, eyes fixed on the ceiling, “Okay. Go ahead. _Do what you have to,_ ”

 

Almost as though he understood, Sam dropped his weight on him, making him yelp at the unexpected pressure on his bruised ribs. He stifled his cry immediately and looked away as Sam resumed grinding. It took less than a minute for him to realize that Sam had no idea what to do... Hating that he was being made to participate in his own rape, he guided Sam’s flushed, blood-warm length to his own hole.

 

_Rape..._

 

His mind flinched from the word even as it thought it. _No, he couldn’t  let it be rape... Sam would kill himself with the guilt if he thought he’d raped Dean. Which meant Dean had to make sure his brother knew that he was consenting. _

 

“Sa-” The word was left half-formed as Sam picked that moment to plunge into his body, all the air escaping his lungs with a hiss as his muscles fought the agonizing intrusion. Dean felt his eyes smarting and blinked back the tears, forcing himself to ignore the white-hot rod that was impaling him and lifted a shaky hand to card trembling fingers through Sam’s hair.

“It’s okay,” He whispered. “Whatever you need, little brother. It’s okay,”

 

 _*_-*-_*_

 

Sam woke feeling sated and unseasonably warm. Shifting slightly, he became aware that he was pressed against Dean and that his older brother was gently carding his fingers through his hair, murmuring half-audible reassurances under his breath.

“Dean?”

 

His brother stiffened, “Sammy?”

 

Sam nodded, “Yeah,”

He tried to think back on just   _why_  they were cuddling and remembered the hunt.   _The hunt where he’d watched his brother get thrown into a wall and a chair thrown after him._  When Dean had slumped down, he had forgotten his training in his effort to reach the older boy and promptly paid the price by walking into a cloud of green powder. He remembered nothing after that…   _Shit, what had happened ?_

 

“How’re you feeling, Kiddo? Anything hurt?”

 

He performed a mental triage and shook his head, “I’m good.”

 

“You’re sure? No funny feeling, no nausea or headache or…Nothing?” Dean checked.

 

Sam shook his head; trying to shift out of Dean’s hold and jerking his head up at the muffled whimper that escaped Dean. The niggling feeling of unease increasing by the second, Sam sat up on his knees and instantly wished he hadn’t when he heard more than felt the squelch of fluids as he pulled out from Dean’s body. ( _Pull out?! … just what  had happened here???_)

 

He glanced down and nearly threw up at the sight of the blood that was liberally coated between his brother’s legs.

“De-Dean?”

 

“Don’t worry about it. You’re okay, right? Nothing hurts?”

 

Despite wanting to block the sight, Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blood-smeared skin, a thin trickle of pinkish fluid leaking steadily and adding to the smears on the bedspread. He blinked as his eyes followed the bloody trail to his own blood-slicked length.

“Dean?” His voice sounded tinny and childish to his own ears.

 

“Hey... Hey!” Dean snapped, “Eyes up here!”

 

Sam’s eyes obeyed the command automatically even though the gory images were burnt into his retinas.

 

“Good,” Dean murmured, “You sure you’re okay?”

 

Sam nodded mutely.

 

“Alright-y then,” Dean lifted up, sitting up slowly like an arthritic old man, features tightening with pain with every shift in position. “I’m... ugh... I’m gonna grab a shower. You... maybe- uh- maybe you should clean up first. I’m gonna need more time...”

 

Sam just stared blankly, mind completely uncomprehending of what was being asked of him.

 

Dean sighed, “Okay, then. C’mon. Up!”

 

Sam stood up obediently- muscle memory allowing him to obey the command without thought, watching the quickly concealed wince as Dean followed him up. His brother slung an arm over his shoulders casually and started walking-   _limping_ \- towards the en suite bathroom.    _Sam wondered who was actually supporting whom..._

 

Once inside, Dean had him sit on the closed lid of the WC and grabbed a wash-cloth, wetting it thoroughly and crouching down between his legs, “Tell me if it hurts,”

 

Sam nodded, watching in horrified fascination as his brother carefully cleaned him   _down there_  with gentle swipes. Dean lumbered up once he was done, tousling his locks once after he dropped the now blood-streaked cloth into the basin, “Okay. Off you go. Take my bed; I’ll change the covers on yours once I’m done here.”

 

Sam just stared at the bright ruby-red droplets glittering against the white-tile where Dean had just knelt and then threw his arms around the older boy. Dean’s soft chuckle was a balm to his soul. “It’s fine, Kiddo. We’re good. I promise.”

 

Sam nodded and stepped out of the bathroom, but turned to watch his brother shuffle the few steps to the door to softly shut it behind him. He heard the shower come on and sighed.

 

  _He knew his brother would never speak about what had transpired if given the chance, but this was something they needed  to discuss. If nothing then for Sam to apologise... because he might have been under a spell (obviously), but irrespective of what Dean might say; he  had  hurt the older boy in an unforgivable manner  ._

 

He glanced at the soiled bed felt his heart clench again for everything that Dean was willing to endure for him. He sat down heavily, burying his face in his palms as he waited for Dean to come out.

 

Dean found Sam perched on the edge of the soiled bed with his back to him and his face buried in his palms. The broken posture had his regrets rising like a tsunami and even before he had consciously decided, he was moving: knee-walking across the narrow bed (careful to avoid the soggy – blood stained spots) and laying a cautious palm on the younger boy’s tense shoulder. “I- I’m sorry, Sammy.”

 

Sam whirled around at his voice, not having heard his brother’s emergence from the bathroom. He opened his mouth to speak but froze at the visible regret in the viridescent eyes. Closing his own hand over Dean’s slightly larger one to keep his brother with him - Dean looked like he expected to be punched -   _and that he was determined not to raise a finger in defence_ \- as he peered up into the wet eyes, “What’re   _you_  sorry for?”

 

“Ra-...” Dean choked once, throat working as he swallowed down a sob and tried again, “Hurting you. I- I know you didn’t want your first time to be like this.”

 

“No,” Sam agreed carefully, “I definitely didn’t expect my first time to be in response to a curse... but that’s not on you, Dean. It’s not   _your_  fault!”

 

“I- I took your virginity, Sammy... ‘Course it’s my fault!”

 

“Did you want to? Because I don’t think you wanted this either, Dean... the door had to be locked from outside to   _keep_  you in here with me, so I guess that speaks volumes-”

 

“I’m still the older one-”

 

“Yeah, and I’m not the one bleeding from my ass because I had to ride my brother’s dick!” Sam shouted. Almost as soon as the words left his lips, Sam froze; face crumpling as he burrowed in the protective cocoon of his brother’s chest. “How can you still stand to touch me?!”

 

 Dean just wrapped his arms around the trembling shoulders and pulled him closer in response.

 

Sam huffed out a mirthless chuckle, “Dean... why- why do your choices always lead to you being the one hurt? I- I could’ve-”

 

“This- this was bad enough, Sammy... I- I couldn’t make you bottom too... couldn’t hurt you like that.”

 

“I wouldn’t have been hurt,” Sam refuted with cent percent confidence, “You’d have taken care of me, Dean; not have hurt me.”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

“But I hurt you,”

 

“Not your fault.”

 

“How can you say that?!” Sam demanded, “I can see how much it’s hurting you to fricckin’ walk, Dean! How can you not hate me for hurting you like that?”

 

“It was the curse, Sammy. Not your fault.”

 

“Tell me how to make it up to you...” Sam whispered, nuzzling as close as his brother would allow.

 

“You don’t owe me anything, Kiddo.”

 

“But I   _need_   to... to do something.  Please, Dean?”

 

Dean shook his head in exasperation and then pushed him till he had shifted to the other bed and stretched out alongside him, “Fine. You get laundry duty for a month.”

 

“Done.”

 

Dean turned to glance at him in surprise-   _it was no secret that Sam really hated laundry duty_.

“You’re serious about this?” Dean questioned softly, “About making it up to me?”

 

Sam nodded.    _He hoped his brother would- for once - ask for something he actually wanted..._

 

Dean closed his eyes for a second, visibly fighting himself; but when he opened his eyes, they were determined, “Get out.”

 

“What?” Sam yelped.

 

“Get out. Leave this life... I-I-I know you’ve managed to hold on to your straight A record.   _Maintain it._ .. Guard it with your life. And begin looking into schools. I- I have a little saved, but not enough for   _good_  colleges Sam, but- but I think they give these scholarships to straight A kids like you...”

 

Sam nodded. He had to force himself to actually   _listen_  and not interrupt because the one time Dean actually agreed to ask for something, it was for Sam again... but...    _but his brother had been looking into all this_ . And he respected that.

 

“I- it’s too late for me, Sammy-” he raised a hand to halt his protests, “- but you can still do something with your life. So if you want to make it up to me, do that. Make sure you get out of this life.”

 

“Dad’s going to kill me if I succeed.” Sam whispered, his brothers words about college and a   _normal_  life giving him hope despite himself. It was something he had wanted forever-   _normal_ ... and now   _Dean_  was telling him to go for it.

 

“I’ll handle Dad.” Dean cut in.  “You just worry about your grades and whatever you require to get in to one of those fancy places.”

 

“But-”

 

“No buts, Sammy. I want you out of this life.”

 

He bit his lips but nodded. When he had begun this conversation, he had hoped to assuage Dean’s hurt, maybe lighten the load of his own guilt; but now...   _No, he was going to do it. This was the one thing his brother had asked of him. ... He would make Dean proud._

 

The End.


End file.
